


Human

by Inkmage (Fallowsthorn)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Half-Human, Interspecies Sex, M/M, incubus Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallowsthorn/pseuds/Inkmage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Arthur's always been good at keeping his life and his... condition separate.  That is, until the team is forced into a situation where Arthur can't get away to deal with his needs."</p>
<p>Goes a little further than most fics along the sliding spectrum of "fuck or die."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the Inception Kink Meme, condensed in the summary and found here: http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/9327.html?thread=17156207#t17156207
> 
> There's an earlier version of this fic that's somewhat lighter and softer, and which this is a rewrite of. I like this version better, but if people want me to, I'll post the other version here, too. Currently it's on my defunct LJ, linked from the prompt thread.

4:53 PM

Arthur shifted back against his desk chair, trying to ease the itch in his shoulders and the knots in his muscles from keeping his wings tight against him. The shirt he was wearing helped, but it meant he couldn't get any relief until he got to home and privacy and could take the damn thing off. He squirmed around for a few seconds, then settled when Cobb shot him a sympathetic look and Yusuf shot him a confused one. Humans wouldn't get itchy. Humans didn't have wings.

Besides, they only itched because he was nearing the end of his cycle. Tonight, he'd go out clubbing, that ought to help.

Only another hour or so, and then he could get out of here.

They were preparing for a relatively minor job – but then again, practically anything was minor compared to inception. They'd tracked Robert for a week, and then when it was clear that he was breaking up the company and not suffering any mental issues, turned to new jobs. There was a lot less need for money, now that they were in the States and Cobb had saved the mind of one of the richest men in the world. But it was nice, working all together again, and nothing could beat the rush of adrenaline you got from pulling off an extraction without a hitch.

Ariadne and Eames were under together, training; Yusuf was mixing together various colored liquids that Arthur really hoped wouldn't explode; and Cobb, like Arthur, was working at his desk, putting the finishing touches on his part of the plan.

All in all, there was nothing going on.

Arthur was restless and bored out of his skull. There was _nothing going on_. To a normal person, or even Arthur at any other time, the atmosphere might be soothing, but to an incubus at the end of his cycle, it was torture. He needed movement, sexuality, hearts pounding and pulses skyrocketing. Anything but stillness and quiet and calm.

“You look tense,” Ariadne said behind him, and Arthur started violently in his seat, almost spilling his coffee. He carefully set the mug out of reach before replying, “No, I'm fine.”

“Which is why you just jumped out of your skin when I walked up behind you,” she remarked, arching an eyebrow. “Let me give you a massage. I had a friend in university who taught me how.”

It was an innocent enough suggestion, but just the thought of it was enough to make Arthur's eyes widen and his mouth open just a bit. In his peripheral vision, he could see Eames mouthing, “Go for it!” and Cobb watching him carefully, ready to step in in needed.

Arthur shook his head imperceptibly at Cobb, shut his mouth, then turned around so he was facing Ariadne and said, “No, I think I just need a walk.”

“Okay, then,” she said cheerfully, not picking up on the intended meaning at all. “I'll come with you.”

Arthur thanked who or whatever was listening that day, because Cobb came to his rescue before Arthur could do something potentially incriminating. Or worse, mean. “Ariadne,” he called, “will you come here for a second? I want you to look at this. Always helps to have fresh eyes.”

She trotted over, waving goodbye to Arthur without looking back. He sighed, potential crisis averted, and thanked Cobb with a glance before heading off to make a circuit around the warehouse. It was much the same as their old one, florescent lighting, concrete floor, corrugated metal and gray brick walls, but since they were technically not supposed to be here, they had to put up with the actual owner's rather annoying habit of turning off the lights and locking the doors promptly at six in the evening. They'd gotten locked in more than once, out of sight of the windows as they were, and after the first time Cobb had bought five air mattresses with the team's collective money pool so they wouldn't be stiff the next morning. It would probably have been easier in the long run to have, say, rented the warehouse, or simply used a space they already owned, but there was something in the thrill of illegality that made being "on the job" official. Even if it did get them locked in sometimes.

He broke into a loping run, wings straining against the fabric of his shirt as he unconsciously tried to extend them for flight. When he reached the end of the warehouse, he leaned against the wall and took deep breaths, trying to calm down. They only had another.... He checked his watch and stifled a groan. Fifty-seven minutes until he could do something about it. He sank back against the wall and buried his face in his hands, running them through his hair before he looked up.

Cobb was walking towards him, having left Ariadne and Eames poring over the plan. He reached Arthur and slid down the wall next to him, not caring that his suit got dirty. “You okay?” he asked gently.

Arthur nodded, a bit more shakily than he would have if it were anyone else asking. “It's the last day,” he said, and then scooted down the wall a bit, away from Cobb. Cobb didn't take offense; he'd been the subject of worse from Arthur than a necessary awkward gesture.

“Do you want to take the rest of the day off, go home?” he asked, but Arthur was already shaking his head.

“I can't,” he said. “I can't afford suspicion, even if it's of the wrong sort. What do you think all the others will assume if I start missing one day of work out of every month?”

Cobb looked at him blankly. Arthur elaborated. “The same day?”

Still a blank look. Arthur rolled his eyes. “Like Ariadne does.”

Cobb's expression cleared in realization, and then he frowned. “I have no idea.”

“I have some, but whatever it is that they would assume, it would be nothing good.” Arthur said bluntly. “I can wait another hour. It won't do any harm. I could probably wait until tomorrow it I really had to, but I wouldn't like it.” Arthur realized he was rambling and shut up. Cobb nodded, accepting this reasoning, then stood up and offered Arthur his hand. “Come on. If you work, the time will go by faster.”

Arthur eyed Cobb's hand and got up from the floor himself. It wasn't that he was trying to be mean, but... “Contact: bad idea,” Cobb said, realizing and sticking his hand back in his pocket. Arthur nodded stiffly, watching Cobb walk off ahead of him and trying not to stare at the sway of the other man's hips.

* * *

5:59 PM

Ariadne, Eames, and Yusuf were in cahoots about something, and Arthur was fairly sure that he wouldn't like whatever it was.

They'd been looking furtively between him and Cobb all afternoon, and were now sitting at one desk, speaking in hushed voices and looking over their shoulders every so often. Cobb was oblivious, but every soft murmur and hushed sound coming from their side of the room was starting to grate on Arthur's nerves. It wasn't that he hated gossip and planning, or even minded that they were probably talking about him, but he was acutely, achingly aware of every single little sound, and he couldn't help but visualize the action that went along with it. He could hear the rustle of cloth over wood and metal as Ariadne moved her elbow back along the table; the slurp as Eames took a gulp of coffee; the little sniff that Yusuf probably didn't realize he was making because he had a cold.

Finally Arthur snapped. He threw his pencil down on his desk and watched it fall to the floor with a frustratingly unsatisfying _clank_. He looked up calmly, walked too smoothly over to where the three motormouths were frozen, and leaned on the table with all the deliberate nonchalance of a very angry person.

“I know we've mostly finished preparing for the job,” he said, too kindly and too understanding. As he spoke, his voice went from normal to a guttural snarl that couldn't possibly have come out of a human throat, the words at odds with his tone. “And I know that you might not have anything better to do. But I can hear each and every single tiny movement you make, every syllable that comes out of your mouths, and I will thank you all kindly if you would just SHUT UP!” On the last two words, Arthur's frustration and pent-up sexual heat exploded out of him, shocking his three coworkers and raising the surrounding temperature by more than a few degrees. He automatically tried to flare his wings, to make himself seem more threatening, and when that failed, he turned away with a curse.

Of course Eames couldn't keep his mouth shut. “Looks like it's someone's time of the month,” he muttered, low enough that both Arthur and he could pretend the former hadn't heard.

Arthur stopped and stood deathly still. His eyes flicked to Cobb, who caught the hint of fear there and shook his head. Eames didn't know. He was just being a smartass. But Arthur was fired up enough to snap at anyone in his way, and consequences be damned.

Arthur slowly pivoted in place, face an expressionless mask. Eames, rubbing his side where Ariadne had elbowed him, slowly froze, staring at his coworker.

Arthur advanced on Eames like a snake hypnotizing its prey. He opened his mouth to speak-

And the warehouse plunged into darkness.

No one moved for a second. Their world held ice-bound, they could only listen, helplessly, as the lock snicked into place, the sound amplified a million times by the tension thickening the air. The sound that broke the following silence was Arthur's quiet, horrified, _“No.”_

Then the world was noise and movement and confusion as everyone said each other's names and tried to find flashlights and lanterns and everyone else in the dark. There followed plenty of “Ow, my foot!” and collecting of bruises on shins and groping about blindly by everyone but Arthur, who, as the rest of the team discovered when they got the various lanterns and flashlights up and running, had sunk to the floor looking defeated and broken.

“Are you okay?” Yusuf asked. “Come on, we've been stuck in here before, it's not that bad.”

“Not for you,” Cobb said grimly, once it was clear that Arthur was in no state to answer. “I'll explain later, just don't touch him for now, all right?”

Uncertain nods, bemused nods, but nods all the same. That worked for now. Cobb approached Arthur warily, precisely, like he didn't know what he'd find. “Arthur?” he said carefully, holding his hands out in front of him – to comfort Arthur or ward off an attack, he didn't know.

Arthur's head snapped up and his eyes snapped open, irises oddly dark and discolored in the low light. He growled low in his throat, deep and predatory. Then the growl stuttered and broke off, and Arthur wrapped his arms around his stomach and gasped. “I don't want to do this,” he choked out. “Help-”

Cobb rushed forward, warnings forgotten. He knelt beside Arthur and unthinkingly put a hand on his back.

Arthur _keened_ and arched up into the touch, ignoring the quiet curse from Cobb and the rather loud gasps from everyone else. “Please,” he gasped out, unintelligibly. “Get- wait- please, don't- stop-”

Then he abandoned speech altogether and simply pressed his lips to Cobb's, hungrily, needily. Cobb broke the kiss too late, too soon, much too soon, and said, “Think, Arthur, stop it! You said you could last all day!”

“That was – nng – that was before the lights went out and I got locked in here with all of you, with,” he said, then cut himself off because Cobb's hand was still on his back and that was very distracting, to put it mildly. “Hand,” he managed.

Cobb blinked in confusion before remembering and snatching his hand away like he'd been burned. Arthur stood and staggered over to the nearest desk, collapsing into the chair there when it turned out to be his. Cobb followed him part of the way, and the rest of the team's gazes followed Cobb, bewildered, shocked, and (in Ariadne's case) very interested.

“Um. Mind explaining what that was, then?” Eames said, without much of his usual sarcasm.

Cobb looked helplessly at Arthur. “Do you want me to tell them or do you want to do it yourself?”

Arthur glared daggers at the floor, because he couldn't look at any of the team. “Fuck. It always comes to this, doesn't it?” he said bitterly. “I need a drink.”

“No, you need to get laid,” Cobb told him matter-of-factly. “And since you seem to be indisposed, I'll explain why.”

“Do you have to?” Dull. Defeated. He knew the answer already.

Cobb's tone turned gentle, apologetic. “Yeah. They deserve to know, even if – _especially_ if you can't make it through the night.”

“Which is all well and good,” Ariadne interjected, “but what would be better is if you could tell us _what the hell is going on.”_

“I'm an incubus,” Arthur said flatly, before Cobb could open his mouth.

Ariadne blinked at him in disbelief. Eames and Yusuf blinked at him in bewilderment. Eames broke the silence first. “You're a what and how is that relevant?”

Arthur laughed sharply, without mirth. “Oh, trust me, it's plenty relevant,” he drawled. To Yusuf he said, “I'm a bit more Westernized and less mischief-making than a _popobawa,_ but it's the same idea.”

Yusuf blanched, and Eames looked between the two of them, not getting a word of what Arthur had just said. “I'm sorry, is it 'Confuse Eames' Day, and I missed the memo?”

“Really?” Ariadne squeaked out, ignoring Eames, who threw up his hands in exasperation.

Arthur nodded, and Ariadne's expression turned thoughtful and suspicious. “Prove it,” she said.

With a smile like the edge of a knife, Arthur slipped out of the chair and stood. He let his fingers dance along the line of his shirt and undid the top buttons slowly, savoring the feel of four gazes on him and putting on a show without meaning to.

He moved sensually, slowly, swaying to music that only he could hear, until Cobb said warningly, “Arthur.”

Arthur's hands faltered and the triumph in his eyes died and was replaced with horror. “I'm sorry,” he bit out. “I can't - I need-” He kept his eyes on the ground while he shucked off his shirt and undershirt, but worse than the gasps he heard when he shook out his wings and let the membrane breathe was Cobb's quiet, almost pitying, “I know.”

Arthur looked to his sides, made sure there was nothing in the way, and then snapped out his wings with a rush of air. It felt _good_ , in a half-sexual thrill, to move those muscles after so long keeping them locked in one place. The golden light from the lanterns shone through the stretched black skin, highlighting the veins and spars.

He beat them, once, and then let them retract to their natural position, loosened at his sides and ready to snap out again at a moment's notice.

“Do they work like a bat's? Why are they black? How can you keep them so unnoticeable?” Ariadne again, with her curiosity.

“Yes; because my hair is black; and the spars that hold them together are cartilage, not bone. They can fold fairly snugly against my back. Some incubi have horns, but I've got some human blood in me, so I just have two bony ridges on my head that my hair covers up.” Arthur extended one wing, slowly, to let them stare, and then finally filled Eames in on the missing piece. “An incubus is a male sex demon, pretty much. We're supposed to lie on top of sleeping people and have sex with them, although rape went out of fashion around the time alcohol and clubs entered the picture. The female version is called a succubus.”

“So you go and have sex with drunk people every night,” Yusuf put in, harshly. “That’s still rape.”

Arthur's anger flared, and so did his wings. “You think I want to be like this? I would give _anything_ to have been born instead of spawned! To be human!” His voice broke on _human,_ and he stopped.

“If you were human, you'd be dead,” Cobb said.

Arthur's voice was low and full of self-loathing. “I'd rather be dead and a human than still alive and a monster.”

No one said anything to that. After a slight pause, Ariadne, ever with the questions, broke the silence again. “How often do you need to....” She trailed off, uncertain how to phrase it.

Arthur had no such qualms. “How often do I need to fuck someone? Every half a month to a month, depending. It's like any sort of fuel, or hunger.”

Ariadne huffed out a laugh, and everyone looked at her quizzically, including Arthur. She waved a hand dismissively, then said, “Just- there's finally someone else on this team that has a time of the month.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “One difference,” he pointed out. “Mine is now.”

Ariadne's smile vanished. “Oh, my God,” she said, then: “Wait, how can you-”

“I can smell it,” Arthur interrupted her. “Not the blood itself, but your pheromones change. Since I work around you, and you're the only female I see on a regular basis, my cycle has synced itself with yours so that when I need to have sex, you're able to get pregnant. I'm putting out a sort of - aura - it's not quite a scent - that works as an aphrodisiac.” Talking helped to distract him from the constant undertone his thoughts were taking, which was something along the lines of, _The way you smell- they all smell so good, so human, so delicious, don't you want to get closer and taste that skin, see if it's the same, find out what noises they'll make if you lick just-_

“Mnng-” Arthur said, the sound rising in pitch at the end because he'd lost his balance, falling back into the chair, ignoring the way his wings protested.

“Why didn't you tell us earlier?” Ariadne asked.

Arthur looked at her sourly. “A few reasons,” he said, making his voice as dry as possible while trying to leash his own sexual tension. “One, you wouldn't have believed me. Two, I don't really want to broadcast the fact. Three-” He pointed at Ariadne's arm curled protectively around her abdomen. “-that,” -at Yusuf's still horrified expression. “-that,” -at Eames, who had scooted around behind the desk he was sitting at so it was between him and Arthur. “-and that. Even Cobb's wary, and he's known about it for upwards of six years.”

He wasn't looking at Cobb, but he knew what he'd find if he turned around. Cobb was standing both uncomfortably close and awkwardly far away, and looking guilty as hell. He didn't move, though, and the moment where he could have done something left the room quietly.

"So..." Eames said, after a pause. "What do we do now, then?"

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that none of you feel particularly exhibitionistic at the moment," Arthur said, any when this got him no response, continued. "What a shock. I figured that I'd be able to last all night if I had to, but at this rate I'm not sure. Our best bet is to stay on opposite ends of the warehouse, and hope. Try to get some sleep if you can; so will I. I...." For a moment, he'd dropped into "point mode" and wanted to promise them firmly that he would not touch them without their consent, but he couldn't. The words died a burning death and left the taste of their ashes in his mouth. He respected these people, dammit!

"Given your track record with sleeping people, love, I don't think anyone's gonna be doing much of that tonight," Eames tried to joke, and it came out a little shaky and fell a little flat, but everyone grabbed onto it desperately enough that it defused a good deal of the tension.

"Wait," Ariadne said suddenly. "You can't just... I don't know, jack off in a corner and be done with it? I mean, it'd be awkward, but...."

Arthur gave her a tight smile. "Has to be another person involved, and I have to be in close contact with them. I don't feed off my own orgasm, it's only there to facilitate others' and make me seem normal. It's a nice thought, but it's never worked before."

He stood as normally as he could, waved awkwardly to the others, and started off towards the back of the large room. The rest of them stayed put, except for Cobb, who followed Arthur closely enough to talk to him, but thankfully out of easy reach.

"You should probably go reassure them," Arthur said eventually, trying to prompt Cobb to leave.

No dice. "Are you sure you can last?"

Cobb asked the question quietly, the same way he asked Ariadne if she was sure she could keep the dream from collapsing, but Arthur rounded on him as if Cobb had asked him if he liked eating kittens for breakfast. "Of course I can! Look, I'll stay over this way, and you guys will stay over that way, and everything will be fine. I won't-" Arthur broke off and turned to walk away again, more briskly.

Cobb wasn't dumb enough to grab Arthur's arm, but he did keep pace with him. "All I asked was whether you're sure."

Arthur didn't stop to look at him this time, nor did his raise his voice past a polite, clipped tone. "All you have to do is stay away. That's it. You don't need to go on and on with this 'making sure' thing. I'm sure. Now go away. Keep the others entertained if you can. Leave me alone and no one will get hurt." _Including me._

Cobb's footsteps sounded very much like he wanted to say something more, but after a few moments he sighed and turned around, walking back towards the rest of the team much more slowly than Arthur was walking away.

Arthur sat cross-legged with his back against the wall, looking with half-closed eyes at the small island of light and chatter. He was an outsider, or a predator, or a parasite, depending on who you asked, but he could always watch, from the darkness, what went on inside the light. If he could make it until dawn, then they all stood a chance of getting through this with their dignity, not to mention other important things, intact.

* * *

10:12 PM

Arthur was, or would have been under different circumstances, impressed. It had taken just under four whole hours for the most curious of them all, Ariadne, to decide he couldn't be that dangerous if all he'd done was sit there and pretend to meditate. He'd been aware of her once she'd separated herself from the main group, toting a flashlight but still all alone in the dark, and he snarled at her once she got within fifteen feet

She stopped moving, but that didn't stop her from talking. "So I can't stop thinking about this, but when you said you had human blood in you...."

"I wasn't talking about my family tree, no," Arthur told her, voice thick with humor and audible brimstone.

He gave her a pointy-toothed look that wasn't a grin and she left. Good. Better she hate him than be broken by him, and Arthur could feel the demon he truly was start to come out to play.

* * *

11:26 PM

They'd tied him up in the intervening time, which Arthur remembered suggesting and then not much else about, except the vague comment that it was kinky. Probably for the better; Eames was sporting a wonderful-looking bite mark high up on his neck and didn't appear to look all that happy with how it had gotten there.

But he was secured to one of the desks, which were the heaviest things they had around, and the knots were strong enough that Arthur couldn't undo them or break them when he tried.

It was Yusuf's turn to ask the question that time, and he said with a wary eye on Arthur, "Does this mean Hell is real?"

Arthur cocked his head in thought, although he couldn't stop himself from trying to make the motion look as appealing as possible. "In the sense of various religions? Don't think so. Dunno. In the sense of an actual place? Guess so. Not any fun unless you're built to withstand that kind of heat." It was very likely that Yusuf only understood about half of that through the growl that was accenting Arthur's speech, but he fled all the same.

* * *

1:11 AM

Arthur knew that whenever anyone approached, he was offering them riches, glory, the world, whatever he could pronounce at the time if they would let him go. He couldn't really bring himself to care, and luckily (although it didn't seem like it then), none of them listened to a word he said.

1:43 AM

His wrists were raw from the rope. He was painfully hard now whether or not there was anyone near him, and every time he pulled on his bonds the desk gave him another painful shriek. The noise was too metallic for him to try and pretend it was human.

2:39 AM

He was more lucid now, enough to register the pain of his wrists as actual pain, and enough to remember clearly what he was saying. He was still desperate and every so often his hips bucked against the air more in an attempt to get some sort of sensation than to break free of the ropes, but pieced together, his proto-conversation with Ariadne sounded more or less like this:

"What happens if you run out of time?"

"I'll die. I'll burn. What happens to you if you don't eat for long enough?"

"...Burning was a metaphor, right?"

"Why don't you come closer and find out?"

Much to his relief - _despair - relief -_ she did not have that much of an investigative spirit in her.

4:03 AM

The need had plateaued for the last hour or so, which Arthur was grateful for. It was as though he'd gone past driving himself insane with what he couldn't have and wrapped all the way back around into sanity. For that long, it had seemed as though he really could make it though the night, when the dawn was just around the corner and the day would bring with it opportunities to find a drunk and anonymous partner, or one available for pay.

The sound Arthur made when fire began eating away a smoldering hole in the middle of his gut was halfway a sob.

The other half was an alien scream.

Immediately he was all but surrounded by his concerned friends, or coworkers, or enemies-to-be, with their musk and their scent and their almost-touches when they tried to comfort him and _enough._

Arthur snapped the rope like it was gossamer and stalked towards Cobb. He was human enough, barely, to realize that the other were scattering, hanging back on the edges of vision, and he wasn't still human enough to actually know why that was a good thing.

And then he was on Cobb and he couldn't do a damn thing.

He was caught between human and demon, the human not letting him move closer and the demon not letting him move away. The demon said _yes_ and the human said _no_ and Cobb said something or other, and Arthur heard the sounds, but at this point English was a really insincere wish.

Cobb, thankfully, saw that he was stuck and reached out, under Arthur's wings to touch the skin over his ribcage. When Arthur still didn't move, except to shudder at the touch, Cobb drew him closer so he could knead the muscle where Arthur's wings met his back. Arthur could feel his breathing turn harsh, and then Cobb hit the beautiful spot right between Arthur's wings and all thoughts of looking Cobb in the eyes an hour later were gone. Arthur moved.

He was gentle, that was what they found strange, the people who saw him like this. Like because he had lost a large amount of his ability to plan and reason, he would automatically become this savage brute. He was relying largely on instinct, yes, but that instinct was finely-tuned for pleasure. He was frantic, but in his element, and he knew very well how to pretend he had every second in the world to spare.

He kissed Cobb, then pulled away when Cobb tried to deepen it. His teeth felt hot and coppery in his mouth, and that meant they would burn like brands to a human, so instead he pressed Cobb against the wall, wrists held flat to either side, and wingtips digging into the metal above to steady them. He whispered fire into Cobb's ear in what he thought might be English, said, "I could burn you, I could mark you, you want me to, you want them to look at you and wonder where that scar comes from and you'll have to lie because if a human's teeth burned like this they would already be dead."

Cobb shuddered in Arthur's hold and if there had been any doubt of his interest, there was certainly none now - the evidence was pressing against Arthur's hip. The latter shifted to make them more comfortable, or less, depending on one's perspective, and when Cobb tilted his head back roughly Arthur brought his mouth along that cool throat, feeling the chill of the other man's blood but not letting his teeth so much as graze the skin.

Cobb moaned and canted his hips towards Arthur, who snapped his teeth and slid a leg between Cobb's. He didn't want to risk anything with more contact, in case the heat really was too much. Cobb didn't seem to mind, though, surging underneath Arthur and trying to move his hands.

Arthur growled at him, a completely inhuman sound that stilled Cobb's movements. "Stay still and you'll like what happens next." So saying, he let go of Cobb's wrists, and apparently Cobb was in more control of his impulses than Arthur was because he actually did stay still, although he put his palms flat to the wall behind him..

Arthur eyed him and decided that was all right, then trailed his fingers along Cobb's shoulders lightly, twisting one hand to a sweet spot just below where Cobb's shoulder met his neck. Cobb started the tiniest bit, then practically melted when Arthur danced his other hand downwards to slip languidly into Cobb's pants and stroke his cock.

He let Cobb get used to that sensation, then, seeing that Cobb's mouth had fallen open, pressed his own mouth against the other man's, messily, reveling in the tang of human skin and the drumming of Cobb's pulse. He curled his lips around his teeth and twined his tongue around Cobb's until the latter gave in to confusion and did what he wanted.

Arthur didn't normally kiss his partners much. Mouths were more interesting in other places. But now, when this was the most interesting place he could put his mouth without hurting Cobb more than would be fun, he had an excellent idea.

Cobb, being a bit slow on the uptake at the moment for some unthinkable reason, didn't realize what Arthur was doing until the latter began sucking on Cobb's tongue, doing everything else he would if he were giving Cobb a blowjob, instead of... whatever this was.

Cobb made a sound that Arthur took to mean yes, this was a good idea, and spent a moment being smug before breaking off the kiss. Cobb tried to follow him with his head, until Arthur fisted his free hand in Cobb's hair and pulled him back to the wall.

He drew his other hand out of Cobb's pants and slid it between Cobb and the wall, keeping the friction going with his hips while pushing at Cobb's spine. Cobb gave him another, somewhat breathless, moan, and Arthur leaned up to hiss and growl in his ear, almost-begging in almost-words. "Please, come for me, please, please, need it, want you to fall apart for me, want it so bad, please you look so beautiful-"

Cobb buried his face in Arthur's shoulder and grabbed Arthur's hips so that Arthur was pressed against him as he came, shuddering and with a cry muffled by Arthur's skin and muscle between his teeth.

Arthur felt Cobb's orgasm break over his demon senses like an arctic river, dousing the heat and fire and madness of the last few hours and triggering his own climax as well. He let out a shaky breath as he came, feeling the last of the hellish heat leave his mouth and teeth as he did so.

And then, only then, did his human side fully understand what had just happened - what he'd just done.

"Oh God," he whispered. Cobb lifted his head and looked at him muzzily, not that Arthur really saw it with his head ducked in shame and horror.

"Oh, God, Cobb, I'm so sorry. I'm so-" Arthur cut himself off so he wouldn't just start babbling and started to disentangle himself from Cobb. He couldn't change the past, but at least he could get and stay as far away as he could.

Except Cobb looped his arms around Arthur's shoulders and gave him a lazy kiss, and Arthur's brain took that, looked it up and down, and sent it back stamped, "Does Not Compute."

"Later," Cobb said - well, mumbled, really. "Can worry about it later."

Arthur had to take that at face value for the time being, but he still separated them and tried to make sure Cobb could stand on his own while doing the most he could not to touch him. A human under the influence of an incubus's aphrodisiac - and wasn't that a wonderful thing to remember, that Cobb wouldn't have been so complacent in his right mind - was often tired or drowsy right after orgasm, to give the demon time to slip away.

Cobb blinked groggily, shook his head sharply a few times, and came back fully to the waking world. Because it was Cobb, the first thing he did was look down at his crotch and go, "Hmm."

And because it was Cobb, Arthur pulled his wings closer to his sides in a subconscious effort to make himself look smaller. He automatically looked at his watch and was rewarded with a kind of dull surprise when he realized that he still had it on, and Cobb was still fully clothed. Well, at least there was that. The only article of clothing missing was Arthur's shirt, which he'd taken off... yesterday, technically.

"Arthur?" a new voice said. "Are you... normal again?"

Arthur's gaze flickered up for long enough to realize that it was Ariadne, then went back to the floor. He nodded shortly and moved away from Cobb so that Ariadne could check on the latter without needing to get close to Arthur, and leaned on one of the (intact) desks, noting with some misery that the one he'd been tied to, despite being made out of stainless steel and wood, largely didn't look like a desk anymore.

Ariadne did move closer to Cobb, but only far enough that she didn't have to yell at him. She was studiously ignoring the mess they'd both made of their pants, which was nice of her. "Cobb, are you all right?"

Cobb nodded as well, though more easily than Arthur had done. "But I don't think...."

Arthur was still looking at the floor, so he missed the meaningful look that Cobb gave him, as well as the rest of Cobb and Ariadne's conversation, which was mostly conducted by way of looks and gestures.

"Not right now," Cobb said firmly, which appeared to be the end of that.

Around this time, Eames and Yusuf realized that the coast was clear and came trailing back, Eames muttering something about a bottle of eyeball bleach the size of the planet. Both of them gave Arthur a fairly wide berth, which he couldn't exactly blame them for, and sat down in the closest chairs they found, which happened to be one of the lawn chairs and the one next to Arthur's desk.

There was an awkward silence, no one really wanting to be the first to talk. Eventually Arthur said, "I'll leave as soon as the door's unlocked."

There was another silence, this one not quite so awkward. "When are you coming back, then?" Eames asked.

Surprised, Arthur jerked his head up to stare at Eames. "What?" he said blankly.

"You were dying. Starving, if you want to put it that way," Cobb told him. He sounded a tad hoarse but otherwise fine. "I'm pretty sure the only person who has a problem with the last ten minutes is you."

"But..." Arthur shut his mouth, not quite able to explain why it was such a problem. "Yeah. Okay."

"Here," Yusuf interjected, tossing Arthur his shirt for where it was still laying on Arthur's desk. Arthur nodded his thanks but didn't bother putting it on, since it would impede his wings.

Ariadne made a clicking noise with her mouth, thinking, then said, "We still have four or five hours until we can leave. We might as well get what sleep we can."

Everyone else nodded gratefully, except for Arthur, who shrugged when they all looked at him. "I don't need as much sleep as a human, and less right after...." He gestured at Cobb vaguely; luckily, none of them were completely dense.

It was the work of ten minutes to get all the air mattresses up, and then they turned off most of the flashlights save for the ones they were using not to trip over each other. Arthur sat cross-legged on the desk, and Eames, Yusuf, and Cobb conked out, leaving Ariadne to pause and look over suspiciously at Arthur.

"Are you really okay?"

"I will be," Arthur said eventually.

Of course, being Ariadne, she couldn't let it go as just that. "What's wrong?" When Arthur didn't answer, she stood and came closer. "Arthur?"

Arthur shook his head. It wasn't really that he didn't want to tell her, it was that he still didn't quite know himself. If it were some anonymous person he'd gotten off, he wouldn't be having these qualms.

Ariadne apparently decided to try something else. "How did Cobb find out?"

"Huh?"

"How did Cobb find out? You said he'd known about you being an incubus for a long time. I'm guessing you didn't walk right up and tell him...."

Arthur looked away from her, and wet his lips. "No. I didn't. The same thing happened six years ago. I thought I had enough time, and I... didn't. And I didn't have the words to tell him, that late, and I just.... He says he forgives me, Mal said she forgave me, but he's my friend!" Arthur's voice rose sharply on the last word, and he paused to make sure none of the others were waking up before continuing in a much quieter voice. "Or he was, or - I don't know. But I don't want to just be a demon, I want to have more control than - than this around the people I respect."

Ariadne made a quiet noise of sudden understanding. "But do you respect us any less, for having seen that side of you?"

"Of course not," Arthur said. "I mean... oh. But.” He lowered his head, and spoke to his lap, unable to articulate what he felt if he had to see Ariadne’s expression while doing it. “I’d like the rest of you to respect me, too. And, obviously….” He looked up and shrugged a little.

She gave him a flat look. "Good night, Arthur. Talk to Cobb tomorrow."

Cobb. Right. Arthur sighed and bid Ariadne good night, trying to come up with a speech that sounded suitably apologetic, once Cobb woke up and discovered the aphrodisiac had worn off.

* * *

9:00 AM

The warehouse flooded with light, startling Arthur and prompting groans of unhappiness from the rest of the team as they woke up from only five hours of sleep. Eames, looking a tad zombie-ish, left to go get coffee, clothing, and various other things as dictated.

Ariadne, who seemed to be one of those annoying morning people, at least according to the grumbles coming from the direction of Yusuf, caught Arthur's eyes and tilted her head meaningfully towards Cobb. Arthur looked at her a little pleadingly before he realized that she couldn't save him from the consequences, and walked over to Cobb, stopping an awkward distance away.

Cobb looked up at him from where he was letting the air out of his air mattress, and stood. "Hey."

"So..." Arthur said.

“So,” Cobb said, more firmly, and tipped his head further away from the central area. Arthur followed him to where he’d indicated, a tad reluctantly.

Cobb stopped, turned to face Arthur, and held a hand up before the other man could do much more than open his mouth. “Let’s skip the apologies. Do you want to have raped me?”

Arthur stared at Cobb, completely and utterly speechless. After a few moments, he sputtered out, “No! Of course not.”

Cobb nodded. “Good. Then you didn’t.”

Arthur blinked. Strangely, the first thing that came to mind was- “What would you have done if I’d said yes?”

Cobb just shrugged at that. “Disappointed you, I guess. But the chances of that were pretty much zero anyway. If you’re going to argue that you functionally drugged me, then the same can be applied to you: it isn’t as though you were in your right mind either.”

Arthur sighed, not quite sure of what he was trying to say, even as he said it. “That’s - it isn’t that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, I mean-” Arthur stopped, shook his head. “They’ll look at me differently. Shun me, hate me. You think this hasn’t happened before? I’d stop if I could - it’s not as though true incubi are social creatures, otherwise this would happen all the time. Humans, though…. I’d go insane if I tried.”

“So don’t, then.”

Arthur gave Cobb a frustrated, wry look. “This from you? Do you remember the last two years or so?”

Cobb grimaced. “Learned from experience?”

Arthur relented, a short laugh pulled from him. Everything was normal, restored; that easy trust they’d built over the years was back, for that one instant. It hurt to let that go, having only a taste of what used to be before was was invaded again.

“Stay,” Cobb said, after a pause. “Maybe we all just pretend it didn’t happen, maybe… I don’t know. But stay. We deal in dreams; we’ve dealt with nightmares worse than you.”

Arthur turned to look back at Ariadne and Yusuf for a second. They waved and nodded, respectively, and he nodded back, decision suddenly made. Perhaps too hastily, but - well, it seemed very _human_ that way.

He turned back to Cobb. “All right. Yes. We can work it out.”

“We will,” Cobb said, and smiled, raising a hand to catch Eames’ attention as he returned.


End file.
